It's Not Paranoia
by IllustratedGirl
Summary: If somebody's out to get you. Mike knows he's being watched, and he's wigging out. Half the time Harvey doesn't even realize he's doing it. Written for 1stBonesFan.
1. Chapter 1

Alas, a lack of Suits in my life. In that I don't own it, so don't sue me.

_Author's Note: I have no idea how long this is going to be. I'm two chapters and about three thousand words in. It's not done. Not even close. It's also written from a prompt from the lovely 1stBonesFan. I hope you like it, sweetheart, cuz I'm probably taking prompt number 9 in a weird direction. Sorry. But the way I see it, Harvey doesn't get distracted the way other people do. Harvey half-asses nothing. Include the usual apologies for typos and the like._

* * *

Mike couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. Like a stray hair on the back of his neck that he couldn't brush away, he felt _eyes. _Someone's gaze, steady and unfaltering, documenting his every move. He peered around the bullpen repeatedly, but never managed to catch anybody looking. He wolfed down a hot dog in the plaza outside the building, surreptitiously glancing around. There was no one he recognized, no one showing an undue amount of interest. If work had made Mike a hermit before, the constant needling anxiety that somebody was watching him made him a shut in. Alone in his apartment, he was content that it was next to impossible for someone to be monitoring him.

At work, the feeling wouldn't go away. In fact, it was worst there. The stomach turning idea that somebody had discovered his secret- _their _secret- only made the sense of bile in his throat keener. If this was what being stalked was like, the frivolous paperwork he seemed to be always filling out for paranoid clients suddenly seemed utterly reasonable.

Mike was freaking out, officially. He was practically vibrating in his desk chair, mind spinning at a million miles a second. In the last week he could think of at least a hundred opportunities in which he had been completely open to assault. And if somebody knew, wouldn't they just go to Jessica? He'd know if they had. Mike swallowed hard, trying to focus on proofing the brief in front of him. Even hunched as small and unobtrusive as he could make himself in his cubicle, there was a nagging sense of an audience. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, jumping to his feet and striding to Harvey's office.

"Where do you think you're going?" Donna scoffed at him, but her eyes were soft. Mike made a trembling noise, something between discomfort and full blown anxiety.

"I gotta talk to Harvey," he informed her, shuffling his feet.

"Harvey's not here," Donna gestured at the empty office, regarding him with a pointed look, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Mike attempted nonchalance, "Can I wait?" He moved towards Harvey's door. Donna held up a hand to stop him.

"Not unless you tell me what's going on. I'm going to find out anyway," she reasoned, and Mike could see a flicker of concern in her eyes. He glanced around before leaning in close.

"I think somebody knows, Donna. Somebody's watching me," he whispered, forcing down a new wave of panic that threatened to swamp him as he actually put voice to his thoughts.

"Yeah, all right Rockwell," Donna snorted at full volume, "By all means, go grab a seat. Harvey should be back soon, and I can't wait to see how he deals with this new form of separation anxiety."

Mike didn't even care that she was mocking him, he was perched on Harvey's couch within a matter of seconds. He felt calmer there.

When Harvey appeared in the hall a moment later, he faltered at the site of Mike ensconced in his office. After a quick, frowning exchange with Donna, he entered his office.

"What is it?" Harvey didn't seem concerned, merely perplexed.

"Are we alone?" Mike felt stupid asking, but Harvey glanced at Donna nonetheless. Donna shot Mike a dirty look before shutting off her intercom.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, Mike," Harvey informed him after a long moment of silence.

"Somebody knows. About me," Mike blurted, and Harvey went still.

"Did you _tell_ someone?" Harvey asked curtly, and Mike knew he was thinking of Rachel.

"No. That's over with because I couldn't tell her. Because you forbade me from telling her. I just... I feel like somebody is looking at me when I'm here. I get these weird moments where I just _know_ somebody is watching me," Mike explained lamely. Harvey rolled his eyes.

"And in these moments, are you doing anything incriminating?" he asked.

"No," Mike admitted, "I'm usually just working. It's just really bugging me out, okay? Maybe nobody knows. Maybe I'm crazy. But something's just not _right_." Mike could hear in his voice that he was almost pleading, and he didn't care. If Harvey didn't get it, he was on his own. Harvey made an indistinct noise that sounded something like a prayer for sanity and sank into a seat beside Mike.

"You're not crazy, you're just over thinking it. When anyone over thinks, and especially when you do, you become hyperaware. It's probably just somebody spacing out in your general direction," Harvey reasoned, but Mike was shaking his head before Harvey finished.

"I would've caught them at it. I just feels like surveillance. Somebody is taking an active interest in me," Mike insisted.

"Maybe some other partner is thinking of trying to poach you? Maybe it's just Louis being creepy, as he's apt to do," Harvey suggested before shaking his head, "Just try not to worry about it. I'm sure it'll pass."

Mike was still doubtful, and he knew it was visible on his face when Harvey half rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"You can work in here if you want, all right? Today," Harvey offered, and it occurred to Mike that he must seem pretty wild if Harvey was being this nice to him. Not that Mike wasn't going to take full advantage.

"Thanks. I'm just gonna grab my stuff," Mike was out the door in a flash. Harvey slumped back into the couch and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Well?" Donna's voice sounded over the intercom.

"The kid's clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown. I do not have time for that. So I'm letting him work in here so he'll calm down and get something done," Harvey grumbled, standing and moving to his desk.

"Right. So definitely nobody is watching him." There was something in Donna's voice that Harvey did not appreciate.

"No, Donna. He's not being _surveilled. _He's paranoid. If I were capable of such base emotions, I might be too," Harvey snapped, flicking open his laptop as he settled into his chair.

Mike's return cut off any rejoinder from Donna. He was lugging a file box, and still looking furtive, but the tenseness in his shoulders had slackened some. Harvey watched absently as Mike arranged himself on the couch, spinning the box lid in his fingers before digging out file after file, not to mention a rainbow of highlighters. Mike's suit jacket was looking a bit snug in the shoulders and arms; Harvey noted a straining at the shoulder seams. Perhaps the boxing was finally paying off. Mike's wardrobe always needed upgrading, maybe he should call Rene...

"This Ground Control to Major Harvey. Commencing countdown, engines on," Mike was waving a hand, grinning smarmily. Harvey's eyes narrowed as he jerked into the present.

"Do not quote Bowie at me."

"Yeah," Mike's grin had not dropped a millimeter, "All right."

* * *

By the end of the day, Mike was burrowed into Harvey's couch looking for all the world like it was his own office he was lounging in. He'd kicked off his shoes and tucked his legs beneath him, head bowed over the file resting in his lap. Harvey had looked up from his laptop to ponder something aloud, knowing Mike would having something to say. Probably not anything useful, but something. The sight of Mike's head bobbing to Stevie Ray on the record player made Harvey's mind go momentarily blank. Mike was half-mouthing the words to _Wall of Denial_ and the thought that maybe he had never seen anything so goddamn sexy in his entire life was quashed before it was fully formed.

"Are you hungry?" That was not what Harvey had intended to ask, and the terrifying idea that he had no idea what he what he had intended to ask made his eyes go dark. Mike frowned at him.

"I could eat. Are you all right?" Mike's eyebrow cocked, his head tipped to one side, and he regarded Harvey curiously. Harvey didn't seem to notice. His eyes had gone glossy, though still just as dark. He was staring directly at Mike, who struggled to glean anything from the odd look on Harvey's face.

Mike waited patiently for a moment, and then: "Hello? Hello? Anybody home? Huh? Think, McFly."

Harvey started slightly when Mike's knuckles brushed against his forehead, a much gentler version of a noogie.

"What the hell are you doing?" he knocked Mike's hand away, snapping back in his chair.

"I dunno," Mike didn't seem fazed by the rush of anger, "You were... gone. I Mcfly'ed you."

Harvey was quiet for a long moment.

"Yes, and I'm only letting you get away with it because that line is so oft misquoted."

"Sure," Mike rolled his eyes, "Are we eating, or what?"

Harvey would have to roll with it.


	2. Chapter 2

Only Gina is mine. In fact, Gina is me. (We writers, we're self centered. Sometimes we can't help but make cameos.) Don't sue.

_Author's Note: I mostly have this plotted out in my head. I don't know how long it will take me to get there. Might be a while. _

_Reviews are love, dear readers, even the bad ones. I love to bask. Or be told that I suck. Depending on my mood._

* * *

Mike had assumed they would just call for a delivery of something greasy that Harvey would later complain about having eaten.

Harvey, on the other hand, had to get out of the office. Thus Mike found himself following Harvey's broad back down a set of crumbling concrete steps into a building Mike wouldn't have believed was a restaurant if it weren't for the flickering neon sign that read "Diner" above the door.

Inside was a sea of haphazard tables, mismatched chairs, and shitty lighting. It was late for lunch, but early for dinner and only a few patrons sat around, sipping coffee from an assortment of cheap mugs. Mike didn't spot any wait staff.

Harvey settled into one of the few booths in the place, tucked in a far corner.

"What is this place?" Mike scanned the menu already laid on the tabletop with distrust.

"Pet project of a restaurateur client. Withhold judgment until the food arrives," Harvey replied, absorbed in the menu.

"Why are you bothering?" A bright eyed waitress with a smirk to rival Harvey's best stepped up to the table, "I already know what you're gonna order, Harvey."

Mike waited for Harvey's steel voiced reply.

"Shut up, Gina, and get me a goddamn beer," Harvey snarked instead, and Mike could hear the laughter in his tone.

"Who's the kid?" Gina asked instead, glancing at Mike appraisingly.

"Kid? Gina, he's older than you. He's my associate, Mike Ross. Mike, this-"

"I need no introduction, Harvey. Don't let him fool you into thinking we do the whole 'Hi! My name is Gina and I'll be your server tonight!' shtick. You want something to drink, or what?" The second half of Gina's interruption was directed at Mike, who was a deer in the headlights.

"He'll have a beer," Harvey snickered. Harvey was _snickering._ Mike was more thrown by that than by Gina.

"He old enough?" Gina raised her eyebrows, talking to Harvey and looking at Mike.

"As if you've ever carded anyone in your entire life. Beers, Gina," Harvey waved a dismissive hand. Gina whacked her pad against his knuckles, but bustled off.

"What the hell was that?" Mike craned his neck to track Gina into the kitchen, only turning back to face Harvey when he felt a sharp tug on his tie.

"That was Gina. And staring is rude," Harvey commented, running his thumb absently over the cheap silk of Mike's tie before releasing it.

"She seems... interesting." Harvey could tell by the way Mike said it, it was more than a compliment.

"Don't even think about it. She's nineteen, and she would eat you alive," Harvey informed him curtly, "Pick what you want. If you don't know when she gets back, you won't eat."

Mike scanned a menu stocked with comfort food and little else. Chicken pot pie, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, fettuccini Alfredo, beef stroganoff, turkey tetrazzini, lasagna, macaroni and cheese... it went on and on.

"Beers," Gina reappeared, sloshing two pint glasses full of something darker than Mike's usual taste in front of them.

"Harvey, stuffed peppers, garlic bread, and cheese fries?" Gina lifted her brows again, and Harvey nodded, sipping is beer.

"Cheese fries?" Mike echoed, his voice something akin to aghast. Since when did Harvey's refined palate crave stuffed peppers paired with _cheese fries?_

"You, kid," Gina nodded at him, "Well?"

"Can I get the Alfredo with Rosa sauce?" Mike asked and Harvey almost choked on his beer.

"Are you seriously going off menu right now? Harvey, what the hell did you bring me?" Gina's arms dropped to her sides as she glared at Harvey, exasperated. Harvey grinned at her.

"Fine," her eyes narrowed, "But only because it's you." She whirled on Mike "Next time, you pick one of the thirty things actually on the menu." She wagged a finger at him, and vanished once again.

Mike took a big gulp of his beer. And then a second, much slower sip.

"Holy shit, Harvey," Mike squinted at his beer as if he'd find an ingredient label if he looked hard enough.

"House microbrew," Harvey returned distantly, one long finger tapping in the puddle of condensation forming at the base of his glass. Mike was oblivious to the eyes on him as he held his glass up to the light, thoroughly intrigued.

"Quit gawking and drink it," Harvey grumbled, realizing he'd spent the last few minutes staring at Mike's open mouth. Mike grinned, took a long draught of his beer, and opened his mouth to reply.

"Cheese fries," Gina interrupted, dumping a plate at the center of the table. She was gone before Mike could thank her.

"She still mad about the sauce thing?"

"Oh yeah. You'll never live it down," Harvey scoffed, pulling a long strand of melted cheese away from his fries. Mike reached, and Harvey swatted his hand away.

"If you wanted some, you should've ordered them."

"You're not going to eat all that, come on," Mike protested, slim fingers scurrying across the table again.

"Fine," Harvey acquiesced begrudgingly. He chewed a little sullenly and then swallowed too quickly as he coughed, met with the sight of Mike tipping his head back to pull a thread of cheese into his mouth, teeth scraping over his lower lip.

"So. Good," Mike declared, and commenced to devour half the plate.

"Have you taken him out in public before?" Gina asked, placing Harvey's plate in front of him carefully while she dribbled a fair bit of steaming pasta sauce off Mike's dish and into his lap with her other hand.

"Hardly," Harvey admitted as Mike scrambled against the wall of the booth, grabbing for his napkin and trying not to yelp.

"Enjoy." She sauntered away.

"She's like Donna," Mike was in awe even as he dabbed at his pants, "Only without the stuffy corporate job to reign her in. She's magnificent."

"Don't ever let Donna hear you say that," Harvey advised mildly, caught by the slight blush across Mike's cheeks. Mike didn't notice or answer as he tucked into his food.

"Oh, my God," Mike sat back for a half a second, swallowed with a satisfied sound, and pinged forward again.

"This is friggin' amazing," he managed around a mouthful of pasta, and didn't lift his head again. He was nearly finished when he finally noticed the hair tickling on the back of his neck. That heart chilling feeling that said he was being looked at. _Studied._

His jaw stilled and he forced down a suddenly rubbery chunk of pasta. He took a moment to brace himself before casting a darting glance around the restaurant. The place was almost entirely empty, and it took a minute for Mike's gaze to come to rest on Harvey. Harvey, who was staring at him with a faraway look in his eyes, food untouched.

Harvey didn't notice Mike staring back at him for what felt to Mike like eternity.

"Starship Enterprise to Capitan Specter?" Mike tried weakly, "We're adrift, sir."

At least one section of Mike's brain was running through the symptoms of heart palpitations.

Harvey snapped out of it.

"What?" he questioned coldly as he picked up his fork.

"You," Mike breathed.

"Me what?" Harvey huffed.

"You, with the staring. Did I do something wrong?" Mike's spectacular mind made a spectacular leap in logic, "Or have you just been waiting for me to screw up?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harvey denied flatly. Just like he denied the tug low in his gut as Mike's tongue flicked out of his mouth to swipe a rogue drop of sauce.

"You were watching me, just now. Just like you've been watching me all week. Which you tried to convince me wasn't happening. Am I in trouble?" Mike tried to keep his tone light, but his mind was busy compiling a list of all the things he'd done recently that Harvey could potentially be pissed off about. The fact that he couldn't come up with anything to warrant this level of inquiry only made him more nervous.

"No," Harvey retorted unequivocally, and did not elaborate past "Finish your food, we have work back at the office."

"Yeah, of course. Of course."

Mike toyed with his pasta until Harvey couldn't choke down another bite. He did drain his fourth beer without incident, making Mike look up hopefully.

"Let's go," Harvey dropped a tip on the table and stood. Mike wisely chose not to ask about the rest of the bill.


	3. Chapter 3

Suits isn't mine. Don't sue.

_Author's Note: uh, I don't even know. I think I've officially got writers block on this story. I have a chapter or two past this one, but then I'm stuck. Ish. I keep writing things, and then deciding that they're crappy, and then deleting them. I'll keep trying to power through it, but I sort of feel like it's dragging on not going anywhere. It might be a bit for me to come up with a satisfactory ending._

* * *

Harvey spent the next week consciously not watching Mike. Mike came into his office in the mornings, as usual. Harvey piled him with paperwork, as usual. And then Harvey stayed in his office. No strolls through the bullpen when he was trying to figure the wording in a particularly difficult contract. No trolling through the library for the line of case law he needed, and could ask any paralegal or associate to find for him. He didn't even let himself stare out into the direction of Mike's cubicle, lost in thought.

Harvey got a lot done that week. So much, in fact, that he dropped by Mike's cubicle to hand over a new stack of briefs needing proofing at the end of the day on Friday.

"Come on, Harvey," Mike almost whined, "It's been a good week. I have plans tonight!" He pawed through the stack petulantly, muttering to himself.

"Cancel them. That's for tomorrow anyway, I need you tonight," Harvey found himself saying, although he most certainly did not. He frowned at the words hanging between them and Mike went a little pale. Harvey wasn't sure when his mouth had gone traitor, but he was tired of his brain having to play catch up.

"For what?" Mike asked, trying to sound unconcerned. He was not in trouble. He couldn't be, he was sure. Completely sure.

"I heard from a source-"

"Donna heard from a source." Mike couldn't help his interjection. Harvey's frown deepened, though he continued as if Mike hadn't said anything.

"That Zing! Office Supply got blindsided by a lawsuit this morning. Something about a defective printer cartridge. Their annual shareholders meeting happens to be tomorrow. So tonight, there's a party. We're going," Harvey explained, ignoring Mike's loosened tie and open collar. He was rolling with it, again.

"You're taking me schmoozing?" Mike grinned roguishly, "Am I suave enough for that?"

"I'm suave enough for both of us. Go home and get ready, I'm picking you up at 9," Harvey made a shooing motion and Mike shot to his feet to collect his things.

"No Ray?" he asked, hurriedly stuffing files into his bag.

"Last minute, he was booked. I'm getting a car from the club. Would you go, please?"

Mike nodded and scampered off. Harvey resisted the urge to slump into Mike's chair and bang his head against the desk.

* * *

At 8:55 there was a knock on Mike's door and he swung it open, bowtie still untied around his neck. Harvey's eyebrows arched. Mike had stopped wondering several unannounced visits ago how Harvey got into the building.

"Since when do you have a tux?" Harvey surveyed his appearance, looking skeptical.

"I rented it," Mike explained, stepping back to let him inside.

"Of course you did," Harvey sighed, "Does it still have last night's prom vomit on it?"

"It's nice," Mike said defensively, struggling with his bowtie in the mirror.

"It'll do," Harvey retorted, spinning Mike by his shoulders and beginning to properly tie his neckwear.

"So, anything I need to know about tonight?" Mike asked, lifting his chin to keep Harvey's knuckles from brushing his jaw. He couldn't do anything about the fingers near his throat though, and he fidgeted compulsively, trying to shake out the tightness in his chest.

"You are seen and not heard, Mike. Zing! is a multibillion dollar company, and this is a multimillion dollar lawsuit. Watch and learn, all right?" Harvey finished Mike's tie and brushed dust from his associates shoulders.

"Wow, two clichés in one go. Tonight must be important," Mike taunted, stepping back of out Harvey's reach and grasping his bag. Harvey gave him a disdainful look.

"I have files!" Mike protested, "I'll leave it in the car."

"Don't wrinkle your jacket," Harvey sniffed, and strode out the door.

* * *

So much for seen and not heard. Half an hour into the party, and Mike was laughing with Jack Doland, CEO of Zing! like they were old pals. Harvey tried not to be annoyed, and was then surprised when he realized he wasn't annoyed in the slightest. So why he simultaneously felt a swelling in his chest and a nagging in the back of his head was incomprehensible.

"Sure you netted a hundred bil last year," Mike swigged his beer, "But you're no Staples."

"Where did you _find_ this kid, Specter," Doland laughed heartily into his bourbon, "Thumbing his nose at a hundred billion dollars."

"He tried to sell me pot," Harvey lied smoothly. Doland's laughter redoubled, but there was enough truth in it to lighten the alcohol induced flush in Mike's face. Mike busied himself with his beer as Doland coughed away his chortles.

"Don't think I don't know why you're here, Mr. Specter," Doland eyed Harvey coolly, sipping his drink. Harvey felt Mike go still beside him and he fought the urge to swat him. The kid was so unsubtle.

"Toner cartridges that overheat and violently explode, Mr. Doland? They've caused multiple injuries and an unknown amount of property damage. You're in-house counsel can't handle that, and you know it," Harvey replied evenly. He could feel Mike's eyes on him, and he felt an unpleasant echo of what Mike must've been feeling for weeks.

Doland sighed and downed his drink. The man was a pushover, "When you're right, you're right," he muttered, and set his glass on the bar.

"I'm always right," Harvey informed him without a hint of cockiness. It was simply true.

"I'll have my secretary call and set up a meeting, all right? Keep it to yourself, we're trying to get through the meeting unscathed," Doland clapped Mike on the shoulder with a friendly nod before slipping away.

"It's not illegal to hide this from shareholders? I'm pretty sure it is," Mike asked quietly when Doland was gone.

"We're dancing on it. It'll be all right," Harvey assured him. Mike made a skeptical noise, but didn't press further.

"Do you think it'd be all right if I, um, left?" Mike questioned slowly instead, finding the label on his beer extremely interesting.

"Why?" Harvey found himself querying, instead of just letting him leave. The work part was done, Harvey himself didn't really feel the need to hang around. Too many salespeople.

"I had a date, with this new girl from my building. I canceled it and all, but she said if I got home early I should, you know, swing by." The information spilled out of Mike in a tumble.

"Sounds like a classy young lady," Harvey sniped.

"I helped her carry some boxes when she moved in. She's nice," Mike retorted, trying not to sound sullen.

"Too many details, Mike, I don't care. Go, have fun, remember that stack of files I left on your desk," Harvey finished his scotch and ordered another with just a gesture. Mike blinked at him.

"Go, before I change my mind," Harvey grumbled, and Mike hopped off his bar stool.

"Thanks, Harvey. Uh, should I get my bag out of the car now or...?" Mike drifted off, waiting for Harvey to finish his thought.

"I bring it in Monday, Jesus. Just _go_," Harvey was glowering now, gripping his glass too tightly.

"Thanks, again." Mike bolted. Harvey couldn't exactly blame him.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: I thought I had posted this like four days ago. Turns out, not so much. So since I was all prepared to post chapter 5 today, you get two! Yay! I'm working through my writer's block, and I think I've figured out where I want to go with it. Mostly. _

_Also, this note contains spoilers for epi. 2x5, the aftermath of which will probably be worked into this story so that it's at least mostly canon compliant. _

_I had a busy week(end) and I just got around to watching the newest episode last night._

**_SPOILER_**

_I may have actually said this out loud to my computer screen at the end of the episode. DONNA, WHAT? NOOOO! I love her. Seriously. She's easily the best female character on the show. (Jessica is awesome, and Rachel is... Rachel. But Donna wins that handily.) Le sigh. _

_**Suits belongs to USA. I just like to take the characters out for test drives sometimes.**  
_

* * *

Harvey Specter did not make bad decisions. So it was most certainly not a bad decision that he was climbing out of a cab in front of Mike's building with the strap of the kid's messenger bag clasped in one hand. It definitely wasn't a big deal that it was past midnight. It didn't matter at all that he was a little bit past buzzed.

It wasn't a bad idea, so Harvey knocked loudly on Mike's door. It took a few minutes, but Harvey heard the sound of Mike stumbling across the apartment, swearing as he tripped.

"What the fu- Harvey?"

"I brought your bag." Harvey's brain finally caught up as he hefted Mike's battered satchel.

This was an _awful_ idea.

"It's the middle of the night. Are you drunk?" Mike eyed him suspiciously, but swung the door open nonetheless.

"Maybe a little," Harvey admitted as he slumped onto the couch.

"You didn't drive here, did you?" Mike flicked on some lights, puttering about the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

"No," Harvey almost laughed, "couldn't bear the idea of the valet denying me my keys. I took a cab."

"Uh-huh."

It was quiet after that, and Harvey nearly fell asleep to the sound of coffee percolating. The scalding mug that Mike shoved into his hands a few minutes later woke him up.

"Why didn't you just take a cab _home_?" Mike questioned as Harvey's gaze settled on him. Harvey's eyes went dark, and Mike saw his jaw go slightly slack as his thoughts drifted. Mike was being studied again. Except, now he knew who was watching and he didn't feel apprehensive. He felt... naked.

"_Harvey._" The name was loud, hard. Harvey actually jerked.

"What?"

"You're doing it again," Mike accused.

"No I'm not," Harvey denied without being sure what Mike meant, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're watching me."

"I am not," Harvey did not sound petulant.

"Yeah, right. Answer my question," Mike demanded. Harvey sipped his coffee to buy time. Mike wasn't forthcoming.

"What question?" Harvey was finally forced to ask. Mike rolled his eyes.

"Why didn't you just take a cab home? Why are you _here_, Harvey?"

Harvey set his mug down on the coffee table, but didn't look up.

"You..." he began, and then drifted, "There's something about you that I just don't _get_, and it's extremely distracting."

"I'm not sure I know what that means," Mike replied honestly, getting to his feet to fetch a cup of coffee for himself. Clearly he would need it.

"It means that your complete lack of awareness about social structure is perplexing. You're refusal to judge people, no matter what they've done. Everybody has a good reason, right? It's beyond ridiculous. Just, the way you go caring all over everything all the time. You're so goddamn smart, how can you not see that that's just asking for turmoil and disappointment? Over all it's confusing, but I cannot stop trying to figure it out," Harvey explained, unsure if he was relaying his point sufficiently. He buried his face in his mug.

"So basically what you're saying is that you find it incomprehensible that someone would risk being disappointed for the chance at being fulfilled by their relationships? You think it's easier to just assume everyone's an idiot?" Mike was incredulous.

"Easier isn't the right word. Cleaner, maybe?" Harvey offered.

"I gotta tell you, I have never been closer to thinking that you're a sociopath," Mike admitted with a chuckle, and Harvey knocked their knees together.

"Mike, I'm serious. Having faith in people is essentially just living life in a constant state of let down," Harvey insisted, finally lifting his gaze. Mike just smiled at him, making his breath hitch in his throat.

"You have faith in me, and I haven't managed to fuck that up too badly. I trust you, you know that, and you've never let me down," Mike shrugged, "People let you down, that's always going to happen. That doesn't mean you can't deal with it. You move on, and along the way you meet people that are worth it. How is that you seem to have life all figured out but know exactly zero about it?"

"I know plenty about life, trust me," Harvey muttered, sipping his coffee again.

"I mean an non-cynical version," Mike clarified and Harvey snorted.

"I'm not cynical, I'm pragmatic," he chuckled.

"It's really not funny, Harvey. It's not. It's frankly a little depressing. At one point or another, _everybody_ is gonna let you down. Nobody else lives their own life _for you_. You of all people should know about living for oneself. What you have failed to grasp is that there's some people, some relationships, that are _worth_ the fuck ups. You talk to me about 'getting it,' and you mean grasping the consequences. Sometimes your faith in people is rewarded tenfold, how can you not 'get' that?"

The concern practically melting out of Mike's eyes made Harvey a little nauseous, but he couldn't look away. The only way he was going to escape the conversation was by telling Mike he was right. Maybe he was, but Harvey wasn't going to tell him that. He wasn't sure what to do, and the lack of conceivable options made him freeze.

"Harvey?" Mike shifted uncomfortably, making Harvey blink slowly, "You're doing it again."

Mike was blushing, Harvey noted, he looked shifty. His slim fingers were wrapped tightly around his mug, and he was memorizing his knees.

"Mike."

He spent too much time obeying that voice. Mike looked up, and Harvey kissed him. Careful, slow, chaste, but sure. It was searing. Harvey's steady hand along his jaw, and the certainty of it. It hurt like somewhere inside all of it Harvey was mocking him on a level Mike didn't understand. The thought gave birth to a curl of resentment in his chest.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mike breathed, pushing him back shakily.

Harvey didn't know.

"I-" He tried.

"We're not teenagers working in a convenience store, Harvey, we can't just start 'fooling around!' You're my boss, at a prestigious law firm. One where my employment hinges on an extremely dangerous lie. A fraud. We don't get enough attention as it is, with my brain and your attitude? You really want to add sleeping together to this whole mess? Are you fucking kidding me?" Anger made Mike crass. His brows knit together tightly, making him look much older than he was.

Mike was right, again. Harvey still wasn't going to tell him. It was pride, sure, but really Harvey didn't want Mike to be right. Or at least he didn't have to be so reasonable.

"I'll see you at work on Monday," Harvey got to his feet, halfway to the door before Mike processed what he said.

"It's late, I'll walk down-"

The door was closed before Mike could finish his offer.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I promised two, right? Well. I'm awesome, and you get them. I still have no idea how long this story is going to be, but um, potentially a lot longer than anybody guessed. Even me. This was supposed to be a oneshot, you guys. What am I doing? Tell me I'm not totally insane, please._

* * *

Harvey did see Mike on Monday morning, for about two minutes when Mike came in to inform him that Louis had requested (really, _requested_?) help on a case, and Mike wanted to help, and would Harvey be okay with that?

Well of course Harvey was okay with that, if Louis was desperate enough to actually going around requesting things. And, yes, Michael, Harvey does know how to function without an associate, he did it for years remember?

Harvey functioned fine. He went to meetings, and wrote emails, and generally intimidated the life out of people until they did what he wanted. And it took Donna three whole days to storm into his office.

"Harvey, what the hell?" she dropped a sandwich on his desk before parking herself on the couch and staring at him expectantly.

"Looks like lunch," Harvey commented dryly. She rolled her eyes.

"It is lunch. For you because I haven't seen you eat lunch all week. And you know that's not what I'm talking about, I'm talking about all the weird that's happening all over you lately," Donna made a vague circular gesture in the direction of his face.

"I wasn't aware you kept such careful track of my eating habits. How am I doing on Weight Watchers points for the week, Donna?" Harvey sniped at her, eyeing the sandwich disdainfully.

Donna just smiled at him.

"Just like the awkward teenage boy you really are inside, Harvey, you are _always_ hungry. Now stop avoiding my question and tell me what's going on with you, and what it's got to do with Mike," Donna demanded. Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose before unwrapping the sandwich and taking a massive bite. Harvey Specter: Master of Deflection.

"You are insufferable sometimes," Donna growled as she got to her feet.

"But I'm eating, aren't you happy now?" Harvey asked through a mouthful of chicken salad. It was actually a pretty good sandwich.

"Oh, shut up, Harvey."

* * *

Louis really did need help. He had mostly requested the help, or at least commanded it less nasally than usual, and so what if Mike had jumped at the chance to stay out of Harvey's hair for a week or two? He needed processing time.

So four days later when Donna came marching up to his desk with her warface on, Mike couldn't fathom why he was in trouble.

"What did you do?" she demanded over the wall of his cubicle.

"I don't know what you're referring to, Donna," Mike mumbled to his desk. He really didn't know. He didn't know where the guilt in his stomach was coming from either.

"To Harvey," she clarified, lowering her voice.

"Nothing!" Mike protested sharply, too loud. One or two heads in the bullpen turned towards them, making Donna grit her teeth.

"You're buying me a cup of coffee. Let's go."

She strode towards the elevators and Mike had no choice but to follow. The ride to the lobby was silent, and Donna waited impatiently as Mike bought two cups of coffee from the vendor across the street. She took one without thanking him.

"So what did you do?" Donna picked up right where she left off, just as Mike took a large swallow of overheated coffee.

"Nothing!" he spluttered again, "Really, Donna, I didn't. _I _ didn't do anything."

"You didn't do anything to make Harvey spend the last month staring at you like you're the theory of everything. You expect me to believe that?" Donna chortled.

"He doesn't," Mike muttered, overly interested in his coffee.

"You still have a terrible poker face," Donna remarked, and Mike wrinkled his nose.

"All right. So fine, he's been looking at me funny lately. It's not a big deal. It's weird, but I have no idea what's going on in that giant, egotistical brain of his," Mike admitted, and it was the truth. He just wasn't also going to mention the other thing, because it wasn't going to clarify anything, and she would get all 'Donna' about it.

"I trust you boys to figure out your own problems most of the time, but I've let it go on long enough. Get it settled, Mike, whatever it takes." Donna got up and walked away before he could argue further. Sometimes he wondered if she stole Harvey's moves, or if Harvey stole hers.

Mike finished his coffee slowly before heading back into the building. Steeling himself, he knocked on Harvey's door. Harvey glanced up, stone faced, and waved him in.

Mike didn't step all the way inside, opting instead to stick his head in the door.

"We're having dinner tonight," Mike informed him carefully, searching for a tone that allowed no argument, but didn't sound like an order.

"Are we?" Harvey quirked an eyebrow. Mike nodded determinedly. Harvey surveyed him, gaze flicking up and down Mike's lean frame.

"All right. Swing by here when you're ready to go. No later than 8," Harvey replied genially, and returned to his laptop.

"All right." Mike repeated, and then hurried away from Harvey's door. He caught the small, approving smile on Donna's face as he went.

* * *

Mike led the way this time, but they still ended up trotting down a set of decrepit concrete stairs and underneath a neon sign.

It was busier, being more of the appropriate dinner hour, but Gina saw them through the crowd and beckoned them on as she strode up to the booth in the corner.

"Sorry folks, we need the table." Gina wasn't sorry, they'd been sitting there sipping drinks half an hour after finishing their food in the middle of the dinner rush. She got some dirty looks, but the group of loud twenty something's got up to leave.

"Some asshole put us on Yelp. We've been crawling with hipsters ever since. Can we sue?" she asked Harvey hopefully as she wiped down the table.

"Maybe. I'll have a strongly worded cease and desist letter sent. Next time be more careful about who you let in here," Harvey advised in his most lawyerly way. Gina smirked at him as she whipped a pen and pad out of her apron.

"Gee, Harv, thanks!" she snorted, "Beers?"

"Definitely." It was the first word Mike had gotten in edgewise, and it made Gina look at him a little cockeyed.

"Yeah," she nodded at Mike, something shrewd in her expression, "I'll be right back."

"So," Harvey ignored the menu and looked at Mike steadily, "why-"

"Ssh, Mike held up a hand, "I'm deciding." He poured over the laminated sheet in his hand, lips twisted with indecision.

"You know what it says," Harvey pointed out, making Mike roll his eyes.

"That doesn't make it any easier to decide what I want to try next," Mike explained, "Not everybody likes to have a 'usual.'"

"I know what I like," Harvey countered.

"So there's no way you could ever like another thing, past all the things you already know you like. There is simply no more room for new enjoyment in anything," Mike mocked. Harvey appraised him for a moment.

"What can I say," Harvey's eyes flashed dangerously for a split second, "I'm loyal."

"Beers, boys. Whaddya want to eat, kid?" Gina appeared at the table, placing their drinks down and looking at Mike inquiringly. Mike gulped, and stabbed his finger down onto the menu without looking.

"Fish and chips?" he offered, and she nodded without comment, scribbling. She started to walk away, and Harvey spoke up.

"Skip the fries."

"Got it." Gina was gone.

"Why are we here?" Harvey pounced the second she vanished, and Mike looked at him a little balefully.

"You kissed me."

"You pushed me away, and gave me a lecture. Point taken."

"Harvey," Mike's eyes slid away and there was something about the way his teeth caught his lower lip that was almost wistful.

"What?" Harvey challenged, and all of a sudden Mike put his serious face on.

"I think we should sleep together."

Harvey choked on his beer.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: This is probably my least favorite chapter of the story thus far. It was immensely difficult for me to write, but I'm not really sure why. I'm still not even really that happy with it, but I've spent so long on it that I can't look at it anymore. Plus the chapter I started when I finally got this to a point that didn't make me want to vomit is totally awesome. I'm sorry if it's disappointing. I am certainly disappointed in it. Hopefully when the story is finished and I reread it all together, I'll be able to see more clearly how this section should go, and I'll fix it._ _Until then, this is what we're stuck with._

_**When I have the money for an executive producers credit on Suits, I'll let you know. Until then don't sue me because it's not mine.**  
_

* * *

"_What_?" Harvey recovered quickly.

"I said I think-"

"I heard what you said, Mike. I'm just not grasping the words you've found appropriate to put together in a sentence," Harvey interrupted, making Mike roll his eyes.

"Listen. We are not 'throw caution to the wind' types, Harvey. We're corporate lawyers, all we do all day is either figure out how to use peoples mistakes to screw them, or outthink the people that are trying to screw us. We're never just gonna fall into bed on a whim. So instead let's talk about it like we're adults. What we want is pretty goddamn clear to me, so let's just let it be what it is: a one-off fuck. Hit it and quit it. One and done. Fuck and chu-"

Harvey held up a hand to stop him, caught somewhere between amusement and irritation.

"I get it, Mike, but it's not that simple," Harvey's eyes went dark and Mike knew what he would say before he said it, "You can't go back."

"We won't," Mike was confident as he sipped his beer, "I wouldn't want to. Where we are right now isn't awesome. We'll move forward."

Harvey paused to consider. Mike was right, damn him. Where they were was definitely not awesome. Mike was driving Harvey to distraction. It was frustrating, not to mention that it left something to be desired in their working relationship. Also it creeped Mike out, although Harvey would never admit that that part was a little bit fun.

"All right," Harvey replied finally, casually. Mike's eyebrows rose over the rim of his glass.

"Just like that? I have to admit, I expected a little more of a fight," Mike admitted, and then chuckled, "You must really wanna fuck me."

"Don't be crass," Harvey scolded mildly, "When you're right, you're right."

"Are you admitting that I was right, and you were wrong? Who _are _you?" Mike was only half kidding.

"I never said I didn't agree with you, I simply took precautionary measures to make sure you wouldn't be yourself and start getting your feelings all over everything," Harvey retorted.

Mike opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as Gina placed plates of food in front of them.

"Worked it out, have we?" she asked. Mike just stared at her, a little slack jawed.

"Yes," Harvey informed her without elaborating.

"Good. Don't fuck in my bathroom. Seriously. Last time some asshole broke the sink off the wall," Gina looked pointedly at Harvey. Mike gaped.

"A restaurant bathroom, Harvey? Come on."

"I was young," Harvey almost laughed, "And I paid for the sink."

He shot Gina an equally sharp look, "How do you even know about that? It was before your time."

"I have my sources. Eat your food," she ordered, and was gone.

They did eat, sitting in companionable silence. Mike discovered Harvey had decided to forgo his fries when he realized he could just eat Mike's instead. Without looking, without asking, without thinking, Harvey simply plucked food from Mike's plate. Mike didn't complain.

"Ready to go?" Harvey was reclined against the back of the booth, the last sip of his beer swirling at the bottom of his glass.

"Sure," Mike shrugged as Harvey finished his drink. Mike was loathe to admit it, but he hadn't actually planned for what might happen after he explained himself. He'd considered the possibilities of Harvey's reaction, of course, but not how he himself would react to a given situation. He was regretting that a little bit as strong fingers wrapped around his wrist to guide him to the door. Gina winked at them on their way out, and Mike felt a deep heat creep up his neck.

Harvey hailed a cab with sharp, impressive whistle. The ride back to Harvey's condo was silent, though it was less companionable and more like Mike just didn't have anything left to say. Harvey couldn't help but feel a little bit smug at that. Mike, who never knew when to shut up, was speechless beside him.

"What do you look so self-satisfied about?" Mike asked as they climbed out on the curb. He had ceased to appreciate the look Harvey was giving him about halfway back.

"You're quiet," Harvey half smiled as they crossed through the lobby and into his elevator, "You're _never_ quiet."

Mike just rolled his eyes in reply, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Harvey fought the urge to tell him not to abuse his clothes in such a manner. And then they were inside Harvey's condo and the glass doors were sliding open, and Mike couldn't breathe. He certainly couldn't move his feet

"Mike?" Harvey turned to peer at him curiously, halfway out the door. That same slightly vacant, halfway wondering, semi calculating look that Harvey had been fixing him with for _weeks. _The one that made Mike feel exposed, like Harvey was seeing all sorts of things he wasn't supposed to.

"Stop it," Mike growled, taking one large step forward to slide his fingers into Harvey's hair, grasping the back of his head and kissing him roughly. Automatically, Harvey's arms slid around Mike's waist and pulled him along. He guided them seamlessly, backwards, through his condo to the bedroom. It occurred to Mike then that Harvey probably did this a lot.

The thought slipped away with his shirt as Harvey's fingers found his skin, roaming over the blade of his hipbone and across his abdomen teasing along the edge of his pants. Mike moaned, Harvey's teeth tugging softly on his lower lip. He couldn't get Harvey's clothes off fast enough. How was he still in his jacket and tie? Hell, when had Harvey taken his tie off of him? Harvey grasped his scrambling hands gently, pulling his mouth away from Mike's. Mike whimpered a little, breathless. Harvey shook his head, just slightly.

"We get one, right?" Harvey's breathing was hard and fast, but his words were slow, "Make it count."

* * *

Harvey's sheets were ridiculous. Movement from the other side of the bed had jarred a coherent thought out of Mike's cotton stuffed brain. He heard Harvey pad across the room, rummage around at his dresser, and then slip out onto the balcony. Harvey left the door open, and the draft made Mike shiver, sweat still cooling on his skin.

A moment later the harsh scent of cigarette smoke drifted past Mike's nose.

"You are _so_ cliché sometimes," Mike moaned from the bed, flopping over to squint out at the dark shape on the balcony.

"Worth it," Harvey answered around a mouthful of smoke. He moved to lean in the doorway, studying the slight form Mike cut across his bed, naked to the waist and twisted in his sheets. Mike studied Harvey right back: the broad line of his shoulders slanted against the door frame, lean legs crossed as he dragged on a cigarette.

"I met the surgeon general- he offered me a cigarette," Mike grinned as Harvey's eyebrows rose, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across his face.

"Dangerfield?" Harvey shook his head a little, dropping his gaze to the floor, "Fuckin' kid gives me _Dangerfield_."

He heard Mike chuckle and then stretch, sliding out of bed. Harvey flicked his butt casually over the railing, watching Mike get redressed. It was disappointing, and yet satisfying in a way that Harvey couldn't quantify to watch Mike move around his bedroom collecting discarded clothing.

"Mike," Harvey was behind him all of a sudden, grabbing his elbow to pull Mike in. Harvey held him tightly, one hand slithering up under Mike's un-tucked shirt to brace the small of his back. The taste of tobacco was acrid on Harvey's tongue but he still tasted like Harvey: spicy with something bittersweet like dark chocolate when he pulled his lips away.

"Don't be late for work."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: So the newest episode totally put my ass in gear on this story. I feel like I have it moving to where I want it again. One of my biggest problems isn't where I want stuff to end up, it's how I get it there without just being like "this happened and now we're here" because that's boring. _

_In other news, I was musing while proofreading and it occurred to me that I think it's totally weird that there isn't a Suits/HIMYM crossover anywhere in sight. (Not that I've looked very hard. Or at all, to be honest.) I mean, can you imagine? Harvey and Mike just school Marshall in court, but it's fun, ya know. And they go to Maclaren's and Harvey meets BARNEY? That would be amazing. The SUITS, you guys! I cannot write that, though. Waaaay too involved. Amusing to think about though._

_**Suits belongs to USA, not**_**_ me_.**_  
_

* * *

For a while after that everything was fine. Harvey stopped staring, for the most part anyway. The few times Mike did catch him at it, usually late at night when they were surrounded by boxes of files and Mike was trying to work a kink out of his back, Harvey had a sly little smile and a knowing look in his eyes. Mike would just twist his lips into something approximating a mocking grimace. Harvey would snort and return to work. They worked better when they had some ridiculous, career destroying secret that was theirs and _only _theirs. Although Mike was sure Donna knew, because Donna always knew.

Then Travis Tanner hit town again and all Hell broke loose. In a matter of days the firm was defending a damning fraud accusation, Harvey was practically crying on the plaintiffs doorstep and stepping all over himself to apologize, Jessica was on the warpath, and Donna was packing up her desk. Mike had never fathomed that one stupid memo could wreak so much havoc. The look on Harvey's face when as the elevator doors slid closed and cut Donna from view was all Mike needed to know that, for once, Harvey wasn't going to be cleaning up after him. He was going to be cleaning up after Harvey. So he followed his boss down the hall and into his office. They stood silently, shoulder to shoulder as Harvey stared out at the city and Mike pretended to do the same while watching Harvey surreptitiously from the corner of his eye.

"What the fuck am I going to do?" Harvey spoke suddenly, a hollow note in his voice that chilled Mike to the core.

"I don't think there's anything you can do, right now," Mike answered quietly, tracking Harvey's movements as the older man stepped out of the office to rummage a bottle out of the bottom drawer of Donna's desk. He poured himself three fingers of scotch, knocked it back, and refilled his tumbler.

"She screwed up. I know. I'm still so pissed at her, I want to break her fucking neck. I know that Jessica fired her because if she didn't she would've had to fire me. But I haven't run my own life since I was fresh out of law school in the D.A's office. I don't have time to break in a new secretary. There's no way..." Harvey tailed off, ruminating over his scotch for a long moment before polishing it off and pouring a third.

"I'll still be disbarred anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter."

That startled a response out of Mike.

"You're not going to get disbarred, Harvey. You can't. I'm not going to let Travis Goddamn Tanner take out all three of us in one fell swoop," Mike informed him harshly. Harvey chuckled, a rough rasping sound that wasn't laughter at all.

"My assistant shredded a document that I've been accused of burying, Mike. Nobody's going to believe that she did it yesterday and not four years ago. Even if they did, she was _my _employee and all of her actions are my responsibility, so yeah, the evidence I'm accused of burying was buried. This office has officially committed a fraud. If I continue to say I never had it in the first place, I'll be committing perjury. Donna's not going to be the only one going down for this, Mike. At least I'm falling from the penthouse, right?" Harvey sighed, and held up a hand when he saw Mike open his mouth to reply, "But this isn't going to take you out, Mike. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Yeah, except the whole not actually being a lawyer thing. The only reason I'm still here now is because you threatened to quit if Jessica fired me. If you're gone, I'm gone, and you know it. Why the hell would Jessica keep around a liability like me if you weren't staying her hand? Get it together, Harvey. You're not going to let some fucking sleazy nitwit like Tanner ruin everything you've worked for because your _sad_, because you tamped down all your emotions for so long you don't know how to handle them when they rear their ugly heads. Harvey Specter doesn't lose, all right? Battles maybe, but not the war. So put the scotch down, go home, get some sleep and be back here in the morning ready to help Jessica _fix this_." The only person Mike could ever remember speaking to like that was Trevor, and for a second he thought Harvey might throw him through a window. He held his ground though, matched Harvey's stare, and eventually the murderous look faded from Harvey's face.

"I can't believe you just gave me a tough love pep talk."

"You needed it. Harvey, you're wearing a ten thousand dollar suit, standing in an office on the fiftieth floor of a New York City high rise _admitting defeat. _I'm pretty sure this entire city would sink into the Atlantic if anybody but me had heard that little pity party you just threw yourself."

"Don't be dramatic."

"Harvey, the magnetic poles may have just reversed themselves. Hell has probably frozen over. Take a walk down the hall and see if you see icicles in Louis' office, would you? Has it not dawned on you that in the middle of the worst fight of your career, you gave up? For a whole twenty minutes you stood around your office without giving the idea of fighting back any thought. There are tenants to your belief structure that are total bullshit, Harvey, but the whole 'don't ever lose' thing is pretty goddamn solid."

"All right, all right," Harvey cracked a small smirk, "I concede to your point. Although I would've thought you would be more supportive about me admitting to feeling anything."

Mike knew that Harvey was joking, but it still stung.

"It is killing me to see you like this. It's weird, and off putting, and I don't like it a single fucking bit, but you're _allowed_ to feel bad about this, Harvey. You should feel bad, because it sucks. You just don't get to drown in it. Acknowledging your emotions and letting them rule you are two totally different things," Mike shot back, his voice harsher than he'd intended. Harvey quirked an eyebrow.

"I said all right, Dr. Phil. Go get your stuff and meet me in the lobby," Harvey nodded towards the door as he collected his briefcase.

"I don't even warrant a Dr. Drew? I mean, he's a least kind of sexy, with the glasses and-"

"_Go._"

* * *

Ten minutes later they were in the back of the limo, Ray behind the wheel.

"Where are we going?" Mike frowned out the window as blocks slid past, taking them further from Harvey's neighborhood.

"Your apartment," Harvey answered, sounding something like sheepish, "I don't... It's too open at my place. I feel like the whole goddamn city is watching me."

"So you're going to hide?" Mike set his lips in a way that said, unequivocally, "Didn't we decide this twenty minutes ago? No wallowing."

"It's a tactical retreat," Harvey retorted stiffly, "I need to be somewhere I can think. The office and the condo feel exposed. This is trench warfare."

"Are you seriously comparing my apartment to a glorified hole in the ground?"

"Maybe it's more like a bunker," Harvey conceded, and Mike scoffed.

"My place is _not_ that bad."

"Mike, you live in Brooklyn," Harvey retorted, as if that explained anything.

"Whatever," Mike flopped back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the window.

"Petulance doesn't suit you," Harvey lied, trying to ignore the taunting way Mike's lower lip pushed out, "Can't you just accept the idea that I'd rather be at your apartment with you than anywhere else right now and appreciate it? Given the little speech you made earlier, I had actually started expecting you to be a little more mature."

A slow grin had spread across Mike's features as Harvey spoke.

"You _like _me," Mike teased, shooting Harvey's maturity theory all to Hell, "You wanna hang out with me. You think I'm cool. Do you wanna sip hot cocoa and braid my hair? We can talk about all the boys you think are dreamy. Oh, my God! We can totally have a pillow fight."

"I _will_ throw you out of this car."

"No you won't, because you liiiiiike me! Harvey made a friiiend!"

Harvey reached for the button for the partition, "Ray, change of plans-"

"Okay, shutting up." Mike practically sprang across the seat to grab Harvey's far wrist, his torso draped across Harvey's chest, "Just... I appreciate it, all right?"

"All right," Harvey looked down at Mike, something falsely light in his tone that made Mike draw back, although he didn't return to his seat against the far door. Instead he settled back directly to Harvey's right and leaned, just a little, into Harvey's shoulder.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: I realized when I went to put this in a seperate document to post it that I'm a chapter ahead of myself. I write everything in one big document and then separate it to post. I thought I had nine chapters finished. I don't. This is all I've got right now and that's weird, because I like to write one chapter along before I post anything. Too bad. I felt like posting, so I am. It does mean that I have to write like a fiend tomorrow, or I'll feel weird about stuff. Like my shoes are on the wrong feet._

_Who knows. Enjoy._

_**The fact that I don't own Suits (Don't sue me) is such a waste.**_

* * *

"Your couch blows."

Harvey's voice sounded through Mike's apartment in the semidarkness of New York City at 1 a.m. Mike grunted from the his bed.

"I thought sitting on it was bad. I will be sending you my chiropractic bill."

"Harvey," Mike moaned, "I have to get up for work in four hours. Would you _please_ shut up and go to sleep? You've got the body of a Greek statue and better health insurance than a U.S. Senator. I'm sure you can handle one night on a crappy couch."

"All those statues have such tiny-"

"Harvey, I _swear to God_ if you don't shut up, I will smother you."

"You are so thickheaded sometimes that if I didn't know you were a genius I'd have your brain examined. I am trying to get you to offer to share the bed." The quarter of a bottle of scotch, and then the six pack Harvey had blown through not too long after arriving at Mike's apartment were making Harvey chatty.

"Yeah, Harvey, you're a real master of subtly right now. I'm aware of what you're sloppily attempting to do, and I'm pretending not to understand so you'll take the hint that I think it's a shitty idea," Mike answered, finding that talking to Harvey's disembodied voice in the dark was much, much easier than looking Harvey in the eye and telling him no. Which of course Harvey must have realized, because steady footsteps padded across the floor and stopped at the edge of his bed. Against his better judgment, Mike cracked one eye and peered sleepily up at Harvey. The faint glow of streetlights through the window made him look pale, maybe even something a little like delicate. The lighting definitely didn't do anything for the puffy, swollen look around Harvey's deep brown eyes.

"...Fine," Mike acquiesced before Harvey could say another stupid thing they'd both pretend he hadn't in the morning. Harvey slid onto the bed beside him, sprawling out on his back with one forearm thrown over his eyes.

"Thanks," Harvey mumbled and twitched his leg, knocking a knee against Mike's thigh. Mike ignored it, and was drifting on the edge of sleep when Harvey shifted, rolling in towards the middle of the bed and resting a hand at the center of Mike's back.

Mike's brain was fully aware that he should pull away, perhaps get up and go sleep on the couch himself. His spine disagreed, and he felt himself curl into the warm skin of Harvey's palm. Harvey's fingers slid up to his shoulder and tugged him onto his back. Mike's head swam, he was so goddamn tired and Harvey's fingers had splayed themselves around the back his neck, thumb rubbing lazy circles just behind his ear. The gentle movement made his eyes slide closed again, head lolling to one side. For one blindingly naïve second, he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep there and wake up with Harvey still cradling the nape of his neck. Mike pushed the thought away, knowing full well the vulnerability he sensed now would be gone before the sun rose. Harvey would be redressed and sipping crap coffee in the kitchen forming a battle plan before Mike was even coherent enough to mourn the loss of the body in his bed.

Harvey nestled himself closer and Mike's hand slid restlessly up the hard plane of Harvey's abdomen. Harvey's lips brushed against his ear and Mike heard himself make a small shuddering sound.

"We had an agreement," he protested halfheartedly as Harvey slipped a leg over him, one knee on either side his hips and a pair of large hands pressed flat and heavy into his chest.

"I'm amending it." Harvey's lips trailed along his neck and Mike made a noise somewhere between a huff and a groan. The lips paused somewhere in the vicinity of his Adam's apple.

"Tell me to stop."

Mike knew he should. One and done, that was how it was supposed to be. One night for them to be stupid and use each other for whatever convoluted reasons they'd convinced themselves were reasonable. One time for Harvey to think about when he found his gaze settling on Mike when he knew it shouldn't be. One time for Mike to play back in his head when he caught Harvey staring and wanted nothing more than to grab that ludicrously overpriced tie and yank him over the desk. But Harvey's hands were roaming over him like static, leaving a buzzing trail behind and interfering with Mike's vocal chords.

The throaty moan Mike loosed when Harvey kissed the hollow of his throat while awaiting his answer was all the encouragement Harvey needed.

* * *

Mike was alone when he woke up. He could hear Harvey in the kitchen, though, and he would've laughed if he weren't feeling so idiotic.

"I can hear you thinking," Harvey's voice sounded from the other room, "Stop it. Get up, take a shower, and get dressed. We can talk about why, with a combined IQ of over 300, we make such stupid decisions after we're finished crushing Tanner."

Mike let out a choked laugh, and in the kitchen the tension in Harvey's shoulders loosened slightly.

"You know it's not an even 150/150 split, right?" Mike asked as he shuffled through the apartment to the bathroom without bothering to pull his pajama pants on. Harvey focused intently on the copy of the _Times_ he'd spread out on Mike's counter.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Just another reason you'll always be Q and I'll always be Bond."

"Still, better than looking cleverer than you are," Mike retorted and ducked into the bathroom.

"Well, he certainly left with his tail between his legs!" Harvey called through the closed door.

* * *

Harvey's dreams of crushing Tanner were put to bed the minute he stepped into his office and found Jessica waiting for him.

"I know what you're thinking about, Harvey," she informed him without preamble, "And I am here to remind you that in this situation, you are the client. Remember when we talked about that?"

"Yes," Harvey admitted grudgingly, trying to keep his eyes away from the empty desk outside his office.

"So I'm going to take care of that dirty water idiot, and you're going to continue doing your job."

It wasn't a question, but Harvey knew he was supposed to answer.

"I'm not a child, Jessica," he grumbled at her. She just looked at him.

"Yes, I understand," he added, sinking into a seat behind his desk.

"Good. The temp agency is sending someone over later this morning. I told them the standard is essentially impossible to meet, but they're doing their best. I expect you'll want to hold interviews sometime-"

"No." Harvey couldn't help himself but interrupt, "I don't want a temp. I'll find a replacement when necessary. Until then I'll handle it."

"Harvey, you need an assistant. Your schedule is a full time job; if you're managing it you'll never get any actual lawyering done," Jessica argued, rising from her seat on his couch.

"Jessica," Harvey looked at her flatly, "I know it had to be done. But Donna's been gone less than twelve hours and I'm not just going to throw some undergrad too stupid to get an internship at her desk because they can type a hundred words a minute. I'll find someone else eventually and until then, it's not really any of your business who handles my schedule."

Jessica considered reminding him that anything going on inside her firm was, in fact, completely her business. The look on his face as his eyes wandered to the empty desk gave her pause.

"All right, Harvey, but if you start missing meetings-"

"Am I a first year associate or a Senior Partner, Jessica? When in my life have I _ever _missed a meeting?" Harvey snapped, and Jessica got to her feet.

"It's been a rough week, so I'm going to give you a little leeway. But I want you to remember exactly whose name comes first on the door, Harvey. Then give a little thought to the names that don't appear at all."

She swept out of his office. Harvey sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"Uh, Harvey?"

It occurred to him that without Donna to play gatekeeper, Mike was going to be popping in and out of the office a lot more.

"Yes?" Harvey replied with exaggerated patience.

"There's a bunch of files about the Zing! case on my desk, but-"

"Get to work on them. Jessica just graciously reminded me that I'm actually not allowed to do anything about Tanner." Harvey could feel a headache brewing behind his right eye.

"Well, you can't, but I-"

"You won't earn Jessica Pearson's appreciation by sticking your nose into one of her cases. Especially not this one," Harvey cut him off, and then sighed.

"I'm not happy about it either, all right? But this is what we're going to have to do."

"Yeah, all right," Mike reached for the door and then paused, "She'll win, Harvey."

For a split second a jaded, bone deep exhaustion passed over Harvey's features.

"She better."


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Oh goodness. I just watched the newest episode. Can we please all appreciate for a second that there was a Dr. Phil joke involved? Sorry this one is kind of short, but it was a good spot to end it. _

_**It's all in good fun, right? Don't sue**_**_ me_.**

* * *

Jessica did win. Well, the firm called it a win. After 2 million in damages and an official (if sealed) reprimand of Harvey from the New York Bar Association it didn't feel like one.

Harvey didn't take it well. Jessica informing him that he'd be paying back every cent of those fines in sweat and that his billables better beat out Louis' next month (and every month) didn't exactly help. He poured himself into the law with a dedication Mike would've called fanaticism in anybody else. Harvey regularly beat Mike to the office, and stayed well after most of even the most junior associates had gone home. Whatever time was left after that was devoted to schmoozing clients and maybe (although it appeared to Mike to be rarely) some sleep.

Harvey managed his own schedule right up until the settlement of the case (Read: exactly three days) before he was informed of the impending changes to his work regimen. Then a wispy brunette by the name of Maybelle moved into Donna's desk, supplied by the temp agency.

Mike loathed her, and not just because Harvey had apparently given her strict orders to not let Mike into his office. Nobody would ever replace Donna, and it struck Mike as futile to try. It didn't help that she greeted him every morning with a stack or box or boxes of files with sticky notes attached. Instructions from Harvey lacking even a single unnecessary syllable. Behind the files was always Maybelle's smiling face as she told him "No, Mr. Specter is busy," in her light southern accent.

"He's not here," Mike returned flatly, "I need to drop this on his desk."

"I'm sorry Mr. Ross," and she really did seem sorry, which just pissed Mike off further, "Mr. Specter told me he didn't want anyone in there while he was gone. Especially you."

"Especially me," Mike repeated stupidly before giving his head a quick shake and dropping the file in front of her, "Fine. See that he gets that."

Not a foot around the corner from Harvey's office, Mike nearly strode into Louis.

"Why are you lurking?" Mike's eyes narrowed as he surveyed Louis and the hallway beyond.

"I couldn't help but overhear," Louis replied smoothly, ignoring Mike's comment, "I'm concerned."

"And what are you concerned about, Louis?" Mike sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I am concerned that the best associate at the firm is being... underutilized. What's goin' on, Mike?" Louis nodded in the direction of Harvey's office, sporting the rodent like look that always said he was trying to ferret out information. Mike scoffed.

"I'm sorry, Louis. Are you here out of concern for my wellbeing, or because you want the dirt on what's going on with Harvey?" He asked scornfully. Louis' lip twitched at the tone, but he pressed on.

"You two were partners in crime for a minute there, and now you're not allowed in the inner sanctum even when Dad's gone. Seriously, Mike. I know you didn't screw up a case, because I'd know. Everyone would know. So why the cold shoulder?" Louis' voice was conversational, but the question wasn't.

"I don't know, Louis. Like you said, I'm not privy to that kind of sensitive information," Mike shot back, though the sinking feeling in his stomach told him he might know exactly why, "I have work to do."

Mike stalked back to his cubicle, viciously shaking off the restraining hand Louis tried to lay on his arm. The ringing phone that greeted him at his desk just sounded like bad news.

* * *

Harvey had just returned from his breakfast meeting when Mike marched into his office. Harvey glanced past him; Maybelle wasn't at her desk. Of course. He gave the girl one job. Harvey resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead focused on the tense form pacing across his office.

"I almost wish you'd go back to staring," Mike announced, stopping directly in front of Harvey's desk with his arms locked across his chest and an inscrutable look on his face.

"What?" It was a poor, nonspecific question, but it was the only one Harvey was capable of asking.

"Really, I thought you looking at me all the time like you saw all of me and none of me at the same time was as bad as it could get. As it turns out, being ignored is worse," Mike explained tightly, barely containing the slight shift in his hips as he spoke. There was a blankness behind Harvey's eyes that made it hard to breath.

"I'm not ignoring you. I've been bu-"

"Busy? You don't say. I was _wondering_ where Maybelle got that line. How could I not have known that she was quoting world renown linguist Harvey Specter!" Mike spat. He couldn't help himself; his insides hurt.

"If there's no purpose for your visit past squalling at me, I suggest you go back to your desk," Harvey intoned dismissively, opening his laptop.

"I've been getting up every goddamn day, putting on a suit, and coming to work. For you. Because that's what adults _do_, Harvey. Adults square up and bow their heads and push. It'd be great if you could check back in and do the same," Mike replied, a blatant refusal of Harvey's order.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Seventy hour work weeks and three new clients in the past month aren't me squaring up and pushing, Mike? Where the hell do you get off-"

"You're supposed to trust me!" Mike exploded, his arms flying out as he forced the words out of his chest, "You're supposed to tell me what the hell is going on so that I can _help you_ and instead you've got some Southern Belle playing bouncer and handing me files with no context! So no, the Harvey I know hasn't shown up for work. Will you let me know if that guy needs my help?"

Harvey wasn't sure what to do with the wave of guilt that rushed over him at the strain in Mike's voice, the desperate confusion in his eyes. So he ignored it and looked at Mike levelly.

"You don't know me," he said quietly, lips barely moving as he spoke.

"Harvey," Mike started lamely, sounding suddenly exhausted. His shoulders sagged as he slumped into himself, all the fight drained out of him, "Please, just listen to-"

"Get out."

Mike went.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: I didn't expect everybody to be so thoroughly bummed out by the last chapter. (You know how I know you're bummed out? Disappointed people don't leave reviews.) Have a little faith, hmm? Harvey's character (the one I've altered for my purposes, anyway) is basically one I wear like a suit at this point, so let's say I know what I'm doing. Posting this chapter so quickly is me making it up to you. You'll like it. I haven't finished moving 11 from my brain to the page yet, but you'll like that one too, so don't be bummed out, okay? _

_**Suits isn't mine. Sadface**  
_

* * *

Mike hadn't shown up for work in three days. Harvey was livid. So livid, in fact, that he didn't so much as glance up from his work when Jessica stepped into his office.

"Harvey."

He grunted.

"_Harvey_."

"Yes?" he answered finally, tightly. It struck him when he bothered to look at her that Jessica looked careworn.

"Have you spoken with Mike?" she asked, settling into a seat on one of Harvey's over designed chairs.

"Not since he stormed out of my office three days ago," Harvey replied tersely, still trying to skim the page in front of him.

"Was that before or after he asked me a leave of absence?" Jessica asked casually, making Harvey's head snap up.

"He what?"

"You didn't know?" she arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. He scowled at her.

"Would I be asking if I did?"

"I suppose not," Jessica smoothed the fabric of her dress, "I did think it was a little odd that he came to me. You're his immediate superior, and you have the authority to grant a request like that. I assumed that you had directed him to double check with me after giving your agreement."

"And why would you assume a thing like that?"

"He led me to believe it was true," Jessica almost shrugged.

"He led you to believe? Don't bullshit me, Jessica. Mike Ross couldn't lead you to believe anything you didn't already know was true," Harvey almost hissed. Her eyes flicked up at him once, a quick warning, before glancing away again.

"That's frankly untrue. He may be naïve but he's not stupid. The kid can get what he wants," Jessica looked at him again, letting her gaze linger a little, "Clearly."

"What is that supposed-"

"Aren't you at all curious to know why I'm in your office asking if you've spoken to your associate in the last few days?" Jessica interrupted as if she hadn't heard him speaking, and was simply restarting the conversation after an awkward silence.

"Jessica, I'm busy trying to clear 2 million in profits as fast as I can, remember? Can we skip the dance, please?" Harvey didn't entirely manage to force the pleading note out of his voice. He just wasn't sure if he was desperate to be left alone, or desperate to find out what she knew.

"I'm worried about Mike."

Harvey sat back in his chair.

"You are?" He sounded a little dazed even to his own ears.

"Yes, Harvey. He came into my office to ask me for a leave of undetermined length after having a blowout with you that half the office heard. I generally make it a policy not to get involved in disputes between associates and their immediate superiors, but I'm not going to lie to you, Harvey. He looked like shit," Jessica paused, her cool gaze holding steady, "I would consider it a disservice to the firm if your behavior caused one of our most talented associates to quit."

"He's not even really a lawyer," Harvey answered reflexively, but Jessica brushed his comment away.

"That's irrelevant to the discussion we're having. He works for this firm, and I would be disappointed to find out next week that that's not so anymore. Am I making myself clear, Harvey?"

"Yes."

"Good," Jessica smirked a little as she stood, "Just this consider this the exception to the rule."

"What rule?"

"The one about not letting puppies clean up their own messes."

* * *

Even standing outside the door of Mike's apartment, Harvey wasn't really sure what he was doing there. He could've called; Mike always answered. Instead all he could think to do was try to explain why distance was better, that Mike shouldn't be too close when the bomb went off, but that this was too far. He couldn't do that over the phone. So he pounded loudly on Mike's front door until it opened.

Well, Jessica hadn't been wrong. Mike's eyes were glassy and unfocused as he lounged against his door frame in ratty sweats, looking at Harvey expectantly. For a moment Harvey considered the possibility that Mike was high, and then dismissed it. There was no warm, loose giddiness in Mike's gaze. He wasn't far away; he was lost.

And Mike wasn't lounging, he was leaning like the walk to open the door had exhausted him, his knees loose and sagging. When Harvey didn't say anything or nudge the door open Mike sighed heavily.

"Look, I know I should've said something but I figured you didn't want to see me, and I assumed that you'd figure it out. It seems you have. Let's the lecture over with, shall we?" Mike grumbled, avoiding Harvey's eyes.

"I don't lecture on doorsteps, Mike," Harvey's tone was falsely light, "The least you can do is let me in."

Mike almost stumbled backward, bracing himself against the kitchen counter. He left the door open and Harvey stepped inside, shutting it quietly.

"Jessica came to see me today," Harvey announced after nearly a minute of awkward silence in which Mike had simply stared at him, the slouch of his neck making him look almost drunken. Mike still didn't say anything, and Harvey soldiered forward.

"What's going on, Mike? Since when do you run to Jessica when we have a disagreement?" Harvey demanded. That startled a hollow laugh out of Mike, though he still didn't speak.

"Why is that funny?" Harvey snapped, and Mike just shook his head.

"Because of course you think this is about you." An ugly smile still twisted Mike's lips and Harvey resisted the urge to swipe his thumb over that mouth until it relaxed.

"If it's not about that, then by all means, enlighten me," Harvey made a wide gesture, eyebrows rising. Mike scoffed

"Grammy's dead."

Time stopped in order for Harvey to process the new information.

"When?" he asked bleakly, although he was certain he already knew.

"About ten minutes before you threw me out of your office," Mike answered blandly as he stared at the wall behind Harvey's head.

"Mike, I'm so sorry." Harvey didn't know what else to say, and he regretted the platitude immediately.

Mike didn't even hear what he'd said. He was too busy squirming under the vacant, knowing look Harvey had fixed him with. Mike never knew how to make Harvey quit looking at him like that, and he would've given anything in that moment to make him _stop it_. The squirming did nothing to alleviate the nervous energy caused by the whirring thoughts in his brain about just what Harvey was seeing. So Mike did the only thing he knew how to do right then. He stepped forward and kissed Harvey, hard. All teeth and his fingers in Harvey's hair pulling just a bit too hard as he pressed the line of his body against Harvey and prayed he wouldn't fall down.

Harvey's arms slid around him with practiced ease, fingers teasing the skin just above the waist of Mike's low slung track pants as he braced Mike's back. Mike eased slightly, letting his hands fall against Harvey's neck as he sucked gently on Harvey's lower lip. Harvey's mouth drifted away, down his jaw to his neck.

"_Harvey_." The soft, desperate whimper in Mike's voice made Harvey pause, pull back, swallow hard, and look Mike in the eye.

"This isn't..." Harvey drifted off, because it sure as hell didn't feel like it wasn't right. Mike silently finished the thought for him, and his mouth coiled up again.

"I did it for you," Mike's tone was almost accusatory.

That made Harvey jerk away, backing up several paces. Mike had to grab the counter to keep from toppling.

"_What?_"

"You needed to not feel alone the night that Donna got fired and I gave you what you needed." The words tumbled out at breakneck speed, as if once given the opportunity to escape Mike couldn't hold them back any longer.

"Mike," Harvey started to argue, because that wasn't what it was and how did Mike not know that?

"And right now," Mike continued as if Harvey hadn't spoken and Harvey was getting really tired of _that_, "I need you to come over here and fuck me."

Harvey didn't know what to do with the haggard, expectant look on Mike's face. Except that all of a sudden he had Mike pinned up against the counter, and those cheap track pants fell off with barely a tug. Mike made quick work of Harvey's jacket, tie and shirt, barely pulling his mouth away from Harvey's skin long enough to discard the offending fabric. The thought of wrinkles barely crossed Harvey's mind as he yanked off Mike's T and he heard the dull clunk of his belt buckle on the linoleum. Mike's mouth was leaving burning red marks along Harvey's collarbone, clinging to the skin of his shoulders. _Mike_ was clinging, one leg wrapped tightly around the back of Harvey's thighs, the fingers of one hand grasping Harvey's bicep and the other fumbling with his fly.

The edge of the countertop dug into Mike's spine, but with Harvey's body pinned against him he barely noticed. Harvey squeezed his hip with one hand, trailing long fingers down Mike's chest and stomach to his abdomen with the other. Mike made a choked noise and his forehead came to rest against Harvey's shoulder as his body went still

"Mike." There was a question in Harvey's voice that Mike didn't want to answer.

"Don't stop," he moaned instead.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: I'm not dead! Or abandoning this fic. I had some downtime from work and did a little summer living. Also this fic had just started weighing on me with how cliched it was becoming, and I needed a break. I am back now, I think. I pretty much sat down tonight and told myself I had to finish and post a chapter before I could go out. So I did. I think working under a constraint will help me to get this finished. I do still love this story, but I'm trying to pull it back from the brink (chapter ten. chapter ten was totally the brink) of (in my opinion) totally awful. But then, I'm my own worst critic. I'm rambling. Enjoy!_

_Oh, also, how much fun does the new episode look like it's going to be? I mean, it's totally a cheap ploy so the writers have more time to think about what they're actually gonna do with the current draaaaaaaama, but I'm still ridic excited._

**_Okay. Right. Suits isn't mine._**

* * *

Harvey wasn't sure what to do, which was an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation. Mike was curled in a tight ball on the other side of the bed, still sleeping soundly. Harvey's clothes were still on the kitchen floor where Mike had all but torn them off the night before, and Harvey was stuck somewhere in between.

The Harvey that was Mike's mentor, maybe friend, and definitely boss told him he needed to get up, get dressed, and get out before Mike unfurled and woke up. That Harvey was off on a tirade about how arms length was best for all involved. That things were inevitably going to go bad, which was putting it mildly, and that Mike should be as far away as possible when that happened. Arms length was as far as even that Harvey was capable of pushing him.

The Harvey that pinned Mike up against countertops, made drunken excuses to get into Mike's bed, and steered Mike across his condo in the middle of the night simply refused to get up. That Harvey found it perfectly reasonable that Mike should be curled up beside him. That when things went bad Mike was the person Harvey would need to have around to help him put it right again. That Harvey's self-destructive streak couldn't win out when it counted.

Mike made a quiet, miserable noise from across the bed, and that spurred Harvey into action. He put his feet to the floor and headed for the kitchen.

Mike awoke to the smell of coffee and quiet swearing from the kitchen. He flopped around on his bed, stretching stiff muscles. It took him a long moment to place the voice. When he did, he felt himself flatten and go still, sinking deeper into his mattress. Mike closed his eyes tightly and willed it to not be Harvey puttering around his kitchen.

"I can see you, you know," Harvey called out, "Get up."

Mike didn't move. He had a vague hope that if he simply didn't acknowledge Harvey's existence, he would cease to be there.

"Get up, Mike," Harvey kicked the end of the bed. Mike cracked one eye to glare weakly.

"No," he groaned and rolled over, burying his face in a pillow. He threw it away a moment later after discovering it reeked of Harvey's particular scent, a mix of expensive cologne, hair product, and something sharp and citrusy that Mike thought might be soap.

"Mike," Harvey sighed and sank into a seat on the edge of the bed, "I'm not going to pretend to understand to what you're going through right now. It's trite, and frankly it's beneath both of us. You told me once that I'm not allowed to admit defeat. Well, you aren't either. The world doesn't stop turning. You have things to do for your grandmother, and for me, and for yourself. So get up, and get dressed. There's food in the kitchen."

Harvey stood and moved through Mike's apartment to collect his suit jacket and shoes. He was missing a sock, but had too much dignity to search underneath Mike's bed for it.

"When you come back to work, be on time."

Harvey was right, Goddamnit, but it took Mike another ten minutes to admit it to himself and drag his body out of bed.

* * *

Four days later, Mike was back at work, lounging in one of the desk chairs around the conference table in Harvey's office. He spun idly, the tip of one thumb caught between his teeth as he waited.

"You're in my office. Why are you in my office?" Harvey paused halfway through the door, cup of coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

"I'm waiting for you," Mike replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which really, it was.

"Why?" Harvey sat down slowly, regarding Mike as though the younger man were a startled deer, one who might flee if Harvey made any sudden movements.

"I'm sorry, are you not my boss? Do we not meet every morning so you can dump paperwork on me and laugh at the plight that is my life?" Mike snarked, hoping his tone didn't betray the nerves that were making his stomach feel as though it were doing calisthenics.

"I was under the impression you were taking a long term leave," Harvey answered, ignoring Mike's sarcasm. Mike shrugged.

"I couldn't sit around my apartment and think anymore."

"So, you're all right then?"

That startled a merciless laugh out of Mike.

"I'm not 'all right,' Harvey, I'm doing as well as can be expected, I suppose. What are we working on?" Mike was clearly unwilling to continue the conversation in their current vein, though he did swallow back a jab about caring of any sort.

"We're not working on anything until we talk about this. When's the funeral?" Harvey was clearly unwilling to let it go.

"Two days ago. You sent flowers."

"I did not. Why didn't you call me?"

"Well then I guess Maybelle's getting better, because you sent flowers. I didn't call you because I didn't want you there. It wasn't work related so there was no reason for you to be there."

"Mike."

"Well what the hell was I supposed to say, Harvey? 'I know I manipulated the utterly bizarre carnival ride our relationship has become to cope with my grandmothers death by having sex with you, but I'd really like it if you could come sit next to me while I stick her in the ground?' Come on, Harvey. Can we please just go back to work?"

"No."

"Harv-"

"No, shut up. You did not _manipulate_ me into sleeping with you. And I didn't manipulate you either, when Donna got fired. I slept with you because I _wanted you_, and I was under the impression you wanted me too," Harvey arched his eyebrows pointedly and continued, "No, we can't go back to work because it's clear to me that your attitude right now has everything to do with the fact that you're grieving and you don't know how to handle loss. You just referred to your grandmother's funeral as 'sticking her in the ground.' That's not who you are, or how you talk, or something that you would _ever_ say about her or anyone else. Go _home_. Get some sleep. Stop obsessing about work, and," Harvey raised a hand when Mike opened his mouth to protest, "Stop obsessing about our relationship. I'm still your boss, we still work together, your job is still here when you're actually ready to come back. Everything else is moot, at this point. We're fine. Now get out."

Mike stayed sat for a minute.

"Thanks," he mumbled finally, and shuffled towards the door.

"Call me if you need anything." Harvey hadn't actually intended that last part to come out of his mouth. Mike turned his head, ready to shoot back a smarmy retort about Harvey having a heart. Except Harvey was looking at him all funny again, and he lost the will.

"I will," he murmured instead.


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's__ Note: I think this is the end, you guys. I didn't write it intending for it to be the end, but when I went back and reread it... It feels finished to me. If you disagree, please let me know. I could definitely write an epilogue for this... See the end for another note, please!_

_**Not Mine. Don't sue.**  
_

* * *

Mike was bored. He was so bored that at the rate he was going, he'd have every book ever published stored away in his brain by the end of the month.

That might be pushing it a little, but God was he sick of black print on a white page. He was also sick of movies, T.V., the park around the corner, and having lunch with Donna. Not that he didn't love Donna and all, but with her it felt like Pearson-Hardman was a topic totally off limits.

"Donna, I have to tell you something."

The redhead looked up from his refrigerator where she was busy stowing away groceries. Mike was little sick of that too. He was capable of taking himself to the grocery store, but she insisted and Mike had to admit, it was very sweet of her.

"Oh?" Donna quirked an eyebrow, her lips curving in that small smile that meant she knew she was about to hear something juicy.

"Don't be mad," he prefaced, and the smile dropped away. Donna stared at him, waiting silently. She would make no promises about her feelings, that much was obvious.

"I slept with Harvey."

The silence in the apartment was heavy and the weight made Mike fidget.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to say to that," Donna replied finally, stuffing a box of cereal into a cabinet.

"I don't want you to say anything. Specifically, I mean. Something would be good, though," Mike moved to help her, but her shooing gesture forced him to back off. She was quiet for another long moment while she neatly folded reusable grocery bags.

"Putting aside for a minute the fact that that completely violates the Pearson-Hardman Employee Regulations, why on _Earth_ would you think that was a good idea?" Donna asked finally, her exasperation showing.

"I didn't really think about it. I thought I thought about it, but mostly I just thought about how much I wanted to, and that made it seem like a pretty reasonable idea," Mike admitted, sinking into a seat on the couch. Donna slowly moved to join him, fighting her features into a neutral expression.

"Honestly, considering how many rules and laws Harvey's already broken for you, I shouldn't even be surprised by this. But Jesus, Mike, I thought you were at least smart enough not to have an affair with your boss," she announced finally, and Mike had the dignity to look a little shamefaced.

"It's not an affair," he protested, immediately regretting his use of present tense.

"Is this still going on?" Donna demanded, shifting to glower at him.

"Not... not really. Not since I took my leave. We... uhm, we haven't really been talking," Mike shrugged, attempting nonchalance.

"You haven't spoken to Harvey in three weeks." It wasn't a question. Donna was incredulous.

"More like two-ish. There was one minor mental break on my part where I thought it would be better if I went back to work and didn't have to think about things anymore. He threw me out."

"Mike, you can take a leave of absence from your job, but you don't get to take a leave from the people who care about you. Obviously that concept is foreign to you. Why do you think I've been forcing my way into your apartment every few days for the last three weeks? Because if I didn't you'd never call me. You have to know Harvey's not going to call you," Donna's voice softened a little towards the end, "That's not his way."

"Harvey doesn't care abou-"

Donna silenced him with a look. Mike sighed.

"I know! This is the most messed up my life has been since I started working at Pearson-Hardman, and it's still not even close to how messed up it was before. I just don't have anybody to talk to about this, or about anything anymore, and well shit Donna my grandmother's dead and I'm pretty sure I managed to utterly screw up the only other solid thing in my life." A sudden wave of grief threatened to overwhelm him and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Shit. Shitshitshit. It was unfair that mourning was like this, with mood swings and a growing sense of dread at the knowledge that he wasn't just going to wake up one morning and be fine.

Donna rubbed a hand soothingly up and down Mike's back until he took a deep, steadying breath.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, looking up from his hands. Donna smiled a little indulgently.

"Sure."

* * *

Mike was bored again. He'd tossed a paperback over the back of the couch ten minutes before, and he was vaguely aware that the playlist on his iPod had ended, but the thought that he had exactly nothing to do kept him from getting up.

Mike didn't even realize he'd pulled out his phone and dialed until he heard ringing through the speaker.

"What's wrong?" Harvey's voice was thick, and Mike heard a heavy exhalation.

"Nothing, I was just-" There was a distinctive shifting sound in his ear, and it clicked.

"Are you having _sex_ right now?!" Mike sat up straight on his couch, surprised to find he was choking down laughter, "Harvey, did you answer my phone call inside of someone?"

"...No."

"Liar. You _asshole_, it is _amazing_ sometimes. Seriously. Finish up and call me back," Mike failed to force down all of his giggles and Harvey made an exasperated noise but hung up. Mike smiled fondly at his phone, and decided not to analyze the fact that he wasn't mad. He didn't really have a right to be anyway.

Harvey called him back forty five minutes later.

"I'm not having sex, just so you know," Mike informed him by way of a greeting.

"That's nice. What do you want?" Harvey seemed marginally less concerned than before.

"Nothing."

"So, you called me up at midnight just to chat?"

"I was bored."

"And it only took you three weeks to get bored enough to call me. I'm flattered, really."

"Don't be petty, it doesn't suit you. You know perfectly well why I didn't call you."

"Are we ever going to talk about that, by the way?"

"I'd rather not."

"And I'd rather be prepping for round two, but instead I'm on the phone with you, so you'd better have something interesting to say."

"I'm going to come back to work on Monday."

"Well that is interesting. Don't be late."

"I won't."

"Is that all?" Harvey asked after a long pause.

"What we did was stupid. What I did."

"It wasn't just you. I mean, clearly your attraction to me is no surprise, but I should have handled it better."

"And when you say 'I should've handled it better' what you mean is that you shouldn't have fucked me."

"If you insist on being crass about it, then yes."

"I do."

"You do what?"

"Insist. I feel it's best to just be as blunt about this as possible. That way nobody can misunderstand anything."

"When do I ever misunderstand anything?"

"Only when you do it intentionally."

There was another long silence, and Mike pulled his phone from his ear to see if the call was still connected.

"-Anything to do with what happened?" Mike only caught the second half of Harvey's question as he put his phone back to his ear.

"What?"

Harvey grunted.

"I asked if you taking a leave had anything to do with what happened. Between us."

"Don't give yourself so much credit. I was getting up and putting on a suit every day because that's what adults do, remember? I just... She was all I had left. It's impossible to explain everything she was to me. I couldn't stomach the idea of going to work every day like everything was fine. I'm not allowed to cry in the office, remember?"

"But you're ready now?"

"I'm ready to get back to all the other things in my life that are important, yeah."

"Those things being?"

"Harvey-"

"Those things being?" Harvey repeated, his voice taking on a hard edge.

"My job. All my pro bono cases," Mike sighed, "You."

"All right, Rook," Harvey was satisfied with his inquisition, "I'll see you Monday."

"G'night, Harvey." Mike pressed a button and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. How was it that they always seemed to manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once? Mike smiled ruefully. Probably the same way Harvey managed to look at him and know exactly who he was, without knowing what any of it meant.

* * *

_Author's Note: Right? I know it's not all wrapped up with a neat little bow, but that's not really my style. I'm messy, and all I think about is subtext. _

_I could write an epilogue, but I'm not convinced it needs one._


	13. Epilogue

_Author's Note: All right. I have clearly confused some people with the abrupt ending to this story. And I'm sure if the commenter's feel that way, then the lurkers probably do too. I have clearly not gotten my point across, and that's kind of crappy because this is obviously not deep literature, people. You shouldn't have to think about it. I occasionally forget that. My bad. I apologize for taking this story in a weird direction for a minute. Here is the epilogue, I hope it clears some things up!_

* * *

"Mornin'" Mike was ensconced in Harvey's desk chair, two cups of coffee in front of him and a cocky grin on his face.

"Get out of my chair," Harvey smirked at him, scooping up one of the coffees. The look on his face was not fond. Not a bit.

"Make me."

Harvey raised his eyebrows.

"Someone's feeling brave. Don't think that I won't."

Mike's grin just widened, if that was even possible. Harvey wondered vaguely how it was the kid's face didn't break. Nonetheless, he set down his coffee and his briefcase, grasped the back of the chair, spun it, and neatly dumped Mike on his ass.

"When my suit's all wrinkled later you don't get to complain," Mike answered lightly as he picked himself up off the floor. His smile hadn't abated.

"There's a contract printing in the copy room that I need you to proof. Just a merger. I figured I'd ease you back in," Harvey settled himself in his chair, snapping open his laptop.

"Well isn't that sweet of you." Mike was just full of marginally inappropriate comebacks this morning. Harvey eyed him.

"If you get bored, I'm sure I can get Louis to find something for you to do."

"On it." Mike popped up from his chair, snatched his coffee, and strode for the door like a man on a mission.

"Mike!" Harvey's voice stopped him before he reached the door. Mike spun on his heel, every inch the overeager puppy who'd stumbled into a hotel suite with a briefcase full of pot. Perhaps just a touch more refined. Mike looked at Harvey expectantly.

"I'm glad you're back."

Mike opened his mouth to make some witty (i.e. smartass) retort, but closed it and gave Harvey a soft smile instead.

"Thanks. I missed it."

Mike practically bounced out of Harvey's office.

* * *

"Hey, do you want to get dinner?"

Mike's head popped up and he looked around the bullpen expecting to see someone else standing beside his chair, because there was no way in hell Harvey was talking to him.

"Me?"

"Yeah." Obviously. Harvey left the second thing unspoken.

Mike blinked. Harvey was draped casually across the top of the cubicle wall, a guileless look on his face. A man with all the time in the world, and apparently imperfect cuticles as Harvey frowned at his fingers like they'd offended him.

"Sure. Uhm, now?" Mike glanced at his watch. How was it 7 o'clock? He'd finished the merger contract before lunch. Harvey had glanced at it, and then dumped a stack of paperwork built to rival Everest in his lap. Reprieve from the file folder onslaught officially over.

"I know the greatest little diner," Harvey replied without a lick of sarcasm as he peeled himself off the wall and sauntered towards the elevator. Mike stared after him for a second before shrugging on his suit jacket and hurrying down the hall.

* * *

Gina was in an unparalleled mood. She held her pen and pad ready, looking at them eagerly and wearing a bright smile that Harvey would've said was fake if he didn't know better.

"Hi!" Her ponytail may have actually been bouncing. Harvey stared at her, and then at Mike.

"Did you two coordinate this? Is there some new upper flooding the market?"

"What the hell is he talking about?" Gina focused on Mike, who shrugged in a way that said he knew exactly what Harvey was talking about.

"Harvey doesn't spend a lot of time with happy people."

"So it's a crime to be in a good mood now? Will you sue me for damages?" Gina asked, quirking her lips.

"Can I have a beer please? The two of you are creeping me out," Harvey requested, because only puppies make the mistake of answering rhetorical questions.

"You said please. It's catching," Mike commented. Harvey shot him a look.

"I'll be right back," Gina chuckled, and flounced off.

"Can we talk about the fact that you answered the phone mid-coitus? And that it's hilarious?" Mike asked as soon as Gina was gone. Harvey cocked his head to the side. Apparently something about this place prompted Mike to bluntness.

Harvey could play that game. He _loved_ that game. Except. It wasn't really a game, because he was telling the truth. The whole truth. And nothing but the truth. So help him, God.

"I thought you needed me. And don't say coitus."

"I guess I should just be impressed you managed to recover from that extremely suave move and continue. It did take you forty five minutes to call me back," Mike pointed out, "Coitus."

Harvey scoffed.

"He was fine with it. One night stands generally care less about decorum." Mike made a soft noise that sounded like agreement, accompanied by a vague gesture.

"I do appreciate it, though," Mike announced eventually.

"I know you do," Harvey nodded, "Just like I appreciated you letting me finish."

Mike chuckled a little, and glanced up to smile at Gina as she put down their drinks.

"What'll it be, Mikey?" Gina asked, not bothering with her pad.

"The same," he jerked his chin towards Harvey, "There has to be a reason for the cheese fry/stuffed pepper combination."

Harvey smirked a little, and decided not to tell him that there wasn't. That he'd stumbled in here one night back in the mailroom days, very drunk, and ordered the first thing on the menu that appealed. The fact that the owner was a client was simply a happy byproduct of Harvey being totally awesome.

"All right, it'll be right up!"

"I feel like I'm at TGIFiday's or something," Harvey shuddered, watching her leave.

"She's being _nice_, Harvey. She's not going back to the kitchen and spitting in our food. She's a pretty brutally honest person, Harvey, and right now she's brutally happy. Try it some time."

"Am I not clearly enjoying myself? I invited you to dinner on my dime _for fun_. What was that word you used..." Harvey pretended to stare off into space for a brief moment before locking eyes with Mike, "Oh right. Nice."

"Touché." Mike tipped his pint glass at Harvey and took a long swig.

"Damn right."

Harvey sipped his beer and they slipped into a comfortable silence. Mike just sat across the table from him, smiling vaguely.

"I am still sad, you know."

Harvey's head snapped up and Mike was frozen in his seat. That look, that stupid look that made him fidget, that meant more than he could fully comprehend, the knowing in Harvey's eyes that appeared without Harvey seeming to be aware of it. The look that Mike had learned meant Harvey's defenses were down for a split second and a semi familiar feeling of having no control over his actions slipped over him. He pushed forward and kissed Harvey slowly, one hand resting along Harvey's jaw. There was just the _faintest_ hint of stubble, and Mike rubbed his palm across it as Harvey leaned into his hand. Harvey made a noise in the back of his throat as Mike dragged his mouth away.

"We should skip dinner."

Ideas like that were why Harvey hired Mike.

Mike grabbed a pen from his inner breast pocket and scribbled a note of apology to Gina on a napkin. Harvey dropped a tip on the table and they were out the door. Harvey had a cab in seconds, but kept his hands to himself all the way through the lobby and up the first few floors in the elevator. Out of nowhere, he grasped Mike's shoulders and spun him, yanking him back hard against his own chest. Nimble fingers plucked Mike's shirt from his waistband and slid against his skin as the city dropped away below them. Harvey was looking at the skyline, but Mike was looking at Harvey's reflection in the glass. Mike could see the lips brushing against his ear as Harvey spoke, making him sag back against the solid body behind him.

"It's _ours._"

* * *

_Author's Note Part Deux: I made it better, yes?_


End file.
